


The world ain’t ready

by billspilledquill



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sad boys cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-01-21 03:43:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12448968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billspilledquill/pseuds/billspilledquill
Summary: Everything Jack Kelly looked into became his.





	1. Leaving Home

The first time he ever thought that he might be a little too much attached to a certain idealistic idiot, he was luckily sitting just next to _that_ certain idiot.

The wind felt like daggers on his cheeks when they were sitting on that balcony, legs dangling in the air, free from the pressure of the wind.

They used to talked a lot, next to the balcony where his parents- his, he thought sadly, _our_ \- they talked about the newsies, their work, and sometimes they talked about revolutions- about Washington and Robespierre with the little knowledge he had, and laughed how they were trying to do the same- how their ideas can also shape this history of change even though they know they actually can’t, no one need an poor child to instruct historians about equality.

They had a dream so much bigger, grandiose- they had nothing to lose, children of the brave new world, they shouldered that responsibility to create a better world- so they did, moving between misery and poverty, they did and today they did it again.

(And he will do it again and again and again, but that wasn’t worth mentioning).

There weren't much talking that night, unusual for a night of victory—David smiled slightly at the thought; they won, winning should feel this nice— but Jack was besides him, so he kept his breathing even, and pressed his lips tightly together. His eyes found Jack’s.

The sky had a million stars in Jack’s eyes.

He can hear the muffled voice of his parents—the windows weren't that well made in this household— but the curtains were down so nobody can see them. His fingers relaxed a bit, tensed after remembering that Jack’s hands were just beside his. It was annoying, not being able to be free in front of his best friend, and he felt Jack was just the same.

(He hadn't the time nor the money to read— but he hated how this made him remember of a scene in a two-cents novel— only that the characters weren't just innocently staring at the sky while trying desperately not to touch each other.

But still, it was annoying.)

Jack wasn't speaking, and it was unsettling how much silence can make him serious.

He sighed softly, finally breaking the silence, “You are thinking.”

Jack made a small surprised gasp, “ ‘m thinking about the train,” he began, with a strange petulant voice, “ _Tomorrow_ —“

“ ‘s when you leave to Santa Fe,” he said, “I know.”

His friend’s eyes fluttered and suddenly they were tears and Davey wasn’t ready, _oh_ for God’s sake, _he wasn’t_ , “Look, Davey,” he sighed, “I don’t know anythin’, I don’t know about it, I don’t know, I don’t know- ” Jack put his hands in his head and he was shaking and crying and for the millionth time, Davey wasn’t ready.

Jack was really good at commanding and being a fearless leader, he thought. When the leader crumbled into pieces, the soldiers naturally dissolved in the wind.

His remaining sanity somehow held enough courage to take Jack’s hands away from his face, they were wet and warm and the face underneath these warm fingers hid that endless sparkling eyes- why they were so brown, so warm- and these discoveries died in a fireplace somewhere inside his heart.

Jackie’s hands clutched tightly his own and he felt his own tears swelled inside his eyes, “ ‘s okay Jackie, no need to worry, I will take care of the boys-“

“It ain’t about this, Dave,” he wasn’t looking at him, “I ain’t worried about them.”

He sighed, “I know.”

And there was something strange about this boy, David had always knew. Because Jack always so open, so honest that people who don’t know him well would dismiss him as another grinning boy in the street, and David had once been fooled by that.

(That strained smile when Jack first invited his parents, that deep brown when he talked his family-

 _Their locked hands._ )

He heard him taking a deep breath beside him, and slowly, slowly, a shift of wind and- oh- a weight went to his left shoulder, and Jack’s hair tickled his cheeks happily.

He suddenly have no idea where to put his hands.

“I ain’t bein’ moody like this everyday Dave,” Jack’s voice resonated through his beating heart- so near- “how do I sound?”

“Pathetic,” he said.

Also did he mentioned that Jack had an adorable laugh? “Yeah, okay.” He paused, “You are probably right.”

He hummed, no more trying to resist the urge to brush these blond curls that were so near- he wanted to _braid_ them, “I’m always right.”

Jack let a happy sigh when he started his petting, “I will miss you.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes, “I will too.”

Then with a boost of confidence from God knows where, he left a soft kiss on those golden curls and there was nothing, he can’t hear in this clear and silent sky Jack’s breathing.

“You know, I used to think about roads and railroads,” he said, “I wonder where it brings my folks, you know, my family came here from train, and then,” one, two, three, and still nothing, “you will go there from train too. It’s as easy to come home as to go away.”

Four, five, six- ah, “Here’s not my home, Dave.”

Then he lifted his head and look at him with that same big brown eyes and suddenly he can’t find anything in this country but blonde boy with brown eyes and lifting his head with that adorable way, his lips were so pink-

“Then find it here,” he opened his mouth, suddenly feeling the need to leave even though this was his house’s balcony, “find it somewhere near here.”

( _Find it in me._ )

There was silence and sunrise and New York and Jack and there was happiness in his eyes when he said “ ‘kay.”

The glimpse of sunshine in Jackie’s eyes turned brown. Everything Jack Kelly looked into became his.

(And he is okay with that.)

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Flowers

He was not okay with it.

He should know better, Jack thought. There was no way he should agree, there was no place for him to stay in this rotten state, friends don’t miss him when they have others. And yet.

He was sitting in the dinner table, watching Dave’s parent in front of him, while Sarah was beside him, smiling happily at whatever she thought was so great in this picture.

David was out there fetching soup for them, and it was so strange a feeling, the desperate need to hide from this place, so wonderful yet horrid, from everyone, but never once this feeling occurred to David, never once.

So when David sat down, he naturally went closer, which was you know, friendship and all. He cringed at the stupidly loud sound of his moving chair, but was suppressed by the light chuckle of the witnesses of this failure.

“Sorry,” he said, “didn’t mean to make that phony noise.”

“You know,” Sarah laughed, “if you want to be close to David that much, you can just sit in his lap.”

He didn’t speak for the rest of the dinner. He can hear that sound of a bird continuously trying to break free in his ribcage, the bird eventually was tired of its prison, and turned to sleep.

The soup was warm enough to make him remember of a distant memory of his- or a dream that was being dreamt a long time before, there was that soup, and he was eating alone. He could hear from afar his mother’s long and calm breath until he can’t anymore. He wasn’t sure if she was dead or anything, but it probably was. (He didn’t want to check because he can’t he can’t he can’t he _can’t_ ). That was also probably when he woke up.

The thing was, you don’t forget dreams, you buried them as deep as possible until a hot soup can make you remember all at once, which was nothing surprising, except that it was more painful that it should have felt.

“Hey, Dave?” He can hear from somewhere afar that Sarah was asking something to someone, “What is your favorite flower?”

That question made him look up, seeing David with a big smile and a pair of sparkling eyes, and obviously that was why he look up to David, because the question was interesting, not his face, “I like sunflowers.”

Sarah smiled in appreciation, “They are beautiful, I personally really like the violets,” she said and turned to me, “you?”

He grinned, “I got no use for these moonlights and flowers Sarah,” David looked at him in disbelief.

(He didn’t want to mention that time when they were selling papers and he brought a flower from the flower girl because well, she was starving and they need to help each other, right? But she surprised him when she asked what he prefer. There was plenty of types Jack can’t name, yellow and blue, orange and red, colors he can’t name also, and he remembered he smiled at the girl and said-

“ _Sir_?”

“I like the red one.”

She pouted, thinking he was fooling him, “Sir, there are so many red ones!”

So to convince her, he picked one, the reddest one, it was blooming in its beauty, and he thought of Santa Fe, “This one, little miss.”

She giggled, “It’s a camellia! Though this is the most costly flower in my bag, I will give it to you since you called me miss,” she said, “nobody called me miss before.”

He sighed inwardly, he already gave her money so he guessed it was only fair, but still, “Are you sure?”

“We will take it,” David, who was watching all this quietly interfered, “thank you, miss.”

Later, he jokingly put that flower on David and the view sure was great and worth it.

He didn’t want to talk about David’s smile when he put that flower back on Jack’s hair, _it suits you, you look beautiful, and-_

There was nothing to think about.)

“You are the worst person I have seen to hide your emotions, Jakie,” he confessed, “eat your soup.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Because-“ he started, only to be cut by Sarah’s chuckle, “Because you look cute when you eat, okay? You two finish the soup while I clean the plates.”

Their parents were already gone, discussing business children shouldn’t have a say in, and Jack thought of somwhere far away, “ ‘kay.”

Then there was two of them, and he didn’t want to think.

“Thank you for the company,” he said, “um, and I think I should go.”

“Alright,” David said with a bit stained smile, “you are not going anywhere, right?”

He understood, “Nah, I’m not going anywhere.”

A pause, then, “Okay, see ya tomorrow, Jakie.” 

 

 

During his walk, the night followed him with the same railroad in New York. Under the starless sky, he thought of Santa Fe.

 


	3. Going home

 

David was looking out at the window when Jack appeared beside him. Maybe he was just not aware of his surroundings or Jack was a very talented bastard. He suspected the latter option.

“I see ya thinkin’,” Jack said, smiled all teeth and light, “whatcha thinkin’?”

Jack’s eyes were far away too, even if he was staring straight at him. What were they doing except of juggling for food and avoiding the other?

“You know,” David said, looking out at his small but precious bookshelf, “I was thinking about reading for you just before you appeared out of nowhere, Jack.”

“Oh,” he blinked, then laughed with a sharp edge in it, “ya want me to read? Are you like those officials to claim to be your pa and then give you no answer but dirty books? ‘ _Oh but my Kelley boy, you need to read!_ ’ Read, read, read! Like I’m some sort of trash because I ain’t no student in some schools for the rich kids out there–“

David brushed his hand on his shoulders, “I didn’t say anything yet, Jack.”

“Right,” Jack said, a little abashed. “Sorry.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, then quickly turned his head, somewhat embarrassed, “no, no, Dave. No.”

“It’s between friends, you know? I’m not tricking you into anything you don’t want to,” he says, and Jack nodded in comprehension, yet his knitted brows made David unable to push further.

“Alright, Jack,” he said, huffing, “why did you come then?”

Jack fiddled with his fingers, looking forward at an invisible point on the wall, “I, uh, just came to see you?”

And he mumbled something inaudible, making David laugh a little at his discretion. Jack Kelly never hid secrets unless he wanted to.

“What? I didn’t hear you properly.”

Jack took a deep breath and mumbled some more.

“What?”

“I said,” he stopped, “ah, I said that ya don’t mind, uh, I don’t know. Just, like, I have been having some nightmares. And, ah, yeah.”

David didn’t dare to look concerned. Instead he said, “And what do you want?”

“I think abou’ Santa Fe, Dave. I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you going there one day?,” he said.

“Every day’s one day,” Jack replied just as quickly. “I don’t know.”

“Do you need a hand?” He asked, and somehow they understood what it meant. So many meaning caught up to them. Lending a hand. Giving a hand. Embrace your friend.

“Yeah,” Jack said, and David did what he was told.

The embrace was long and suffocating, as if no one was willing to breathe for the fear of disrupting something sacred of sorts. Their lives never really get better than this, this moment of stopping being you. Jack’s breath hitched a little. David saved his for later.

“You know you don’t have to go, right?” He said.

“Yeah,” Jack answered, uncharacteristically quiet.

“You don’t need to overwork yourself, you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“We are here, okay?”

Jack buried himself deeper in the crook of David’s neck, and he felt his whole body go rigid, still. And David was suddenly frightened, his hands went on the back of his shoulder, and he almost barked out.

“You know that, right?”

Jack shook a little, the tremblings didn’t stop. And oh god, David thought. He didn’t know. He swore he would do something if he did know.

“Jack?”

Jack made a sound. Good.

“Hey, Jack.”

“Hey.”

“Tell me, how are you feeling now?”

Jack opened his mouth. Closed it. His voice came out strained, with brutal honesty. “Hurts a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” David said, moving his hand on Jack’s head. The treads of soft hair between his fingers. “We are here.”

“I didn’t hear it.”

“We are here for you, Jackie.”

“I missed it,” he teased, smiling a little.

“Jack.”

They laughed a little breathlessly, and Jack spoke, softly, so unlike his person and more like his hair, “Oh, Davey. But would you?”

David didn’t want to address the fact that he still didn’t answered the question and more on the fact that Jack’s lips were right beside his, “If you ask me to.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been five seven months but here it is im sorry


End file.
